


The Bracelet

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 22:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17031198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: When Napoleon has to return something to an ex, Illya pretends to be his new boyfriend.





	The Bracelet

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost from tumblr of something I wrote a couple of years ago, cross posting just in case

Illya had been looking forward to this down time for weeks, so he was stunned at himself that he had given it up so easily.  Even more stunning was the fact that he was at a party, walking hand in hand with Napoleon Solo, a person he didn’t even particularly like.  He felt like he had been tricked into this, but it all happened so fast… and he had only had the best intentions.

He and Napoleon had been working together, along with Gaby, for a few months.  They had all more or less gotten used to one another… but they had been working nonstop.  Waverly had promised them they could have this week off, and Illya had been planning to spend it sleeping, eating, and playing chess, all without wearing shoes.  Gaby had taken the first flight she could get and hadn’t even told the others where to find her, and Napoleon had been planning to relax as well… until he received a letter.

“I have to go to New York,” he had said.  “Upstate.  It should just be a brief mission…”

Illya had raised his eyebrow.  “ _Mission_?  You are going on mission alone, Cowboy?”  He hadn’t liked the idea.  He preferred to stay close enough to keep Napoleon safe, if need be.  Not out of any fondness for the dark haired man, of course… but because it would make him look bad if his partner got hurt or killed.

Napoleon had nodded. “Yes… I’ll be going to see a former… associate of mine. Rather an unsavory character, I’m afraid, but we have one last bit of business to take care of.”

“Unsavory?” Illya had asked.  He’d realize later this was his first mistake. “Sounds unsafe.  You should not go alone.”  

Napoleon shrugged. “Well… it’s not  _really_  a mission, and this is the first break we’ve had… I wouldn’t dream of asking you to help me.  Even if it would help to have two people there instead of one.”

Illya thought hard for a minute.  “I will go.  Back up is smart, da?  So I will go.” Later, Illya would recognize this decisiveness as being his second mistake.

And Napoleon had simply smiled, looking a bit too innocent.  “Well, if you insist. I  _suppose_  I could let you come with me.  But I’m in charge.”

That was how Illya ended up in upstate New York with Napoleon, at a party full of strangers.  Napoleon had neglected to mention the nature of this mission upfront, and Illya hadn’t asked, just gone along with it because that seemed like the right thing to do.  

They had to take an airplane, a train, and a cab to get there.  They’d been mostly silent as they traveled, but Napoleon had been uncharacteristically quiet, and it concerned Illya.  Was the former associate  _that_  dangerous?  Would this little mission have his Cowboy so nervous?  It didn’t add up.

“What is the plan?” Illya eventually asked.  “What do you need for me to do?”

They were in the backseat of their cab at the time, and Napoleon gazed casually out the window.  “It’ll be very simple,” he finally said.  “I just have to return a certain item to this former associate of mine, and then it’ll be done.”

Illya nodded.  “Does not sound too complicated.”

“If everything goes according to plan, it should be straightforward,” Napoleon replied.  “Get in, give back this thing, get out.”

“Something you stole?” Illya asked, raising a brow.  He wondered what this item could be, why Napoleon couldn’t simply mail it

But Napoleon never answered.  They reached their destination then, a large lovely suburban home like you’d see in a magazine.  It had a wide porch with tall columns, and was painted blue… almost the shade of Napoleon’s eyes.

They paid for the cab and approached the front door to the house, Napoleon leading the way.  “This man,” Napoleon began quietly, “we were involved.”

Illya paused momentarily.  He wasn’t shocked by this admission… but he wondered if he should have been.  If he should have reacted.  He simply said, “I see.”

“He hurt me,” Napoleon went on.  “So I took something valuable when I left.  But he’s written to me a few times and says he needs it back, that it has sentimental value for his family.  So I’m being the bigger person here.”

Understanding dawned on Illya.  Napoleon just didn’t want to do this alone.  And he couldn’t blame him.  It must have been raw still, or his voice wouldn’t have been so soft.  He wouldn’t have needed backup.

A man came to the door soon.  He was almost as tall as Illya and had soft features and red hair.  Napoleon looked up at him, took a deep breath, and said, “Hello, Sam.”

He seemed so vulnerable.  Illya wasn’t sure why he felt for him so, other than the fact that he didn’t seem like himself, so before he realized what he was doing, he took Napoleon’s hand.  That was the least he could do.  Moral support.

“Napoleon,” Sam said warmly, smiling.  “I hoped you’d come.”

Napoleon smiled.  “It isn’t a social call.  You asked me to return the bracelet, so here I am.”

“But you’re here now,” Sam replied.  “And thank you for bringing it back… but… you should stay.  You and your…” His voice trailed off.  He looked down at Illya and Napoleon’s clasped hands.

“My partner,” Napoleon supplied.  “Partners in more than one way, aren’t we, darling?”  At that, he looked up into Illya’s eyes, urgency all over his face, and Illya could feel his heart rate speed up.   _That_  wasn’t why he had taken Napoleon’s hand, to put on some farce!  At least he didn’t think it was.

But it had become another undercover mission, like so many he’d done before.

“Yes,  _Pryanichek_ ,” Illya replied casually.

Sam nodded.  “Please stay.  It’s been so long, and I’d like to get to know your young man…”

“His name is Illya,” Napoleon replied.  “What do you say, darling?”

Illya hesitated, but eventually decided that they had come this far.  They may as well carry the charade on.  “Sounds delightful.”

Sam smiled and ushered them inside the house.  It was obviously decorated for a party, and a few people were already there.  Napoleon held tight to Illya’s hand.

“ _Pryanichek_?” he asked in a stage whisper.

Illya sighed.  “Is type of cookie.  I was on the spot.”

Napoleon shook his head and began to make some other surely clever retort, but Sam approached him then, and Napoleon silenced himself.

“The bracelet, Napoleon,” Sam urged.  “I need it now.  I’m giving it to Adriana tonight as an engagement present.”

Napoleon nodded, and seemed to hold even tighter to Illya’s hand.  Without further hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an elegant, but delicate looking diamond tennis bracelet and handed it to Sam.  “I’m afraid I lost the box.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam replied.  “I have other boxes. But come into the dining room, everyone is having drinks in there.”

Napoleon looked up at Illya gratefully and Illya gave him a brief, crooked smile.  Napoleon smiled easily and hooked his arm through Illya’s and led him into the next room.  Apparently Napoleon hadn’t known Sam’s friends and family, because Sam introduced the two of them to the room, and then left… walking over to a very pretty young blonde woman with a bouffant hair style she was at least a decade too young to wear.  Sam looked like he wanted very much to love her… and Illya almost felt for him.  Almost.

“Put your arm around my waist,” Napoleon whispered.  “It’ll be fine… and we need to look convincing.”

Illya sighed and slipped his arm around Napoleon’s waist, as directed.  He tried not to blush, because he wasn’t accustomed to being affectionate in front of strangers, and certainly not with another man.

“Relax,” Napoleon whispered.  “It’s a non-judgmental crowd.”

Illya tilted his head.  “You just met these people.  You don’t know…”

“I haven’t met them, but he told me about all of them,” Napoleon said, cutting him off.  He pointed to a young man with more freckles than Illya could dare to count.  “That’s Paul, Sam’s brother.  He and Sam have no secrets… not Sam’s inclinations, or Paul’s bad habit of losing entire weekends to LSD.”  Napoleon then indicated two women. “That’s Sam’s cousin Lucy, and her ‘friend’ Meredith.  Boston marriage.  I’ve never met any of these people, but I know them  _all_. No one will say anything.”

Illya tightened his grip on Napoleon and tried to look casual.  He didn’t know what most of that meant, but he assumed it implied that they’d be safe here.

“Thank you for doing this,” Napoleon said, a gentleness to his voice Illya had never heard before.  “And thank you for not punching me for taking your hand.”

Illya snorted a little laugh.  “Am not violent person, Cowboy.”

Napoleon looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, a little smirk on his lips. “I thought I was  _Pryanichek_ now?”

“Always my Cowboy,” Illya replied, shaking his head.

Napoleon grinned.  “Charming.  Very good trait in a fake boyfriend.”

Illya smiled and pulled Napoleon a little closer to him.  He noticed that Sam was trying to appear casual, but looking in their direction, so he decided to things a step further.  Without letting Sam catch his eye, so it would look spontaneous, he kissed Napoleon’s temple very softly and tenderly.

Napoleon glanced up at him, a playful little smile on his face.  “You’re enjoying this.”

“Am just committing to role,” Illya reassured.  

Napoleon shook his head.  “Be a good Peril and go get us some drinks.  You should know now I need to be catered to.”

“And waited on?” Illya asked.

Napoleon sighed.  “No need to make it sound so dramatic.  Just… go on. The bar is over there.”  Napoleon pointed across the room to where a group of people were pouring themselves cocktails.  He caressed Illya’s face with his incredibly soft, warm hand and softly added, “You know what I like.”

Illya walked across the room and tried to ignore the fact that his face still tingled just slightly where Napoleon had touched him.  He poured them both identical glasses of whatever was in the first bottle he grabbed, over ice, and turned to head back to Napoleon.

But he had to pause.  Sam was standing by Napoleon, talking to him… and Illya couldn’t help but feel slightly disrespected.  He knew he and Napoleon weren’t  _really_ together…. But Sam didn’t know that.  So he really shouldn’t be standing so close.

He walked over to Napoleon, a bit faster than he had been moving, and handed him a glass.  “Come.  Let’s dance.”

“We were just catching up,” Napoleon insisted, taking the drink.  

Illya nodded.  “I know.  I trust you.  But come.  Dance.”

Napoleon gave Sam a casual smile.  “Excuse me, won’t you?”

Illya took his hand and led him into the open part of the floor where several other couples were dancing to a bossa nova tune.

“Put your arms around me,” Napoleon directed.

Illya did so.  He looked down into Napoleon’s eyes and asked, “Do you miss him?  You said he hurt you…”

“It was years ago,” Napoleon reassured him.  “It wasn’t fun at the time… but I don’t want him in my life anymore.  This has all reminded me of how things were… and proved that they’re much better now.”

Illya nodded.  “Good.  I do not like for you to hurt.”

“I’m not crazy about it either,” Napoleon replied easily.  “You know… you can grab my ass if you like.  That would really convince everyone we’re really together.”

“Cowboy!” Illya admonished with a blush.  “I would not do that in front of people.”

Napoleon’s eyebrows shot up.  “But you  _would_  do it in private?”

Illya shook his head.  “You are terrible.  I should leave you.”

Napoleon smiled, and they danced silently for a few minutes.  They still managed to sip their drinks, until Napoleon finished his own  _and_  Illya’s, and set the glasses on the edge of a potted plant.  With his hands empty, he could wrap his arms around Napoleon a little tighter.  He was sure they looked like a very convincing couple.

“Sam is staring at us,” Napoleon whispered.  “He’s eating his heart out.”

Illya smiled.  “He should know what he’s lost.”  Illya almost added that it was what he himself had gained, but he didn’t want to push it.

“Kiss me,” Napoleon directed.  “It’ll really make him jealous.”

Illya hesitated a moment, slightly nervous and unsure.  But he had to admit, the idea was very appealing.  He licked his lips once and leaned down just slightly and pressed a soft, delicate kiss onto Napoleon’s lips.  Napoleon pulled him in closer and deeper, and the kiss became more passionate… and Illya never wanted the moment to end.

When they did eventually pull apart, Illya looked up at Sam and saw he was trying to focus on his fiancée. Good for him.

“You’re a damn good actor, Peril,” Napoleon all but purred.

Illya couldn’t even reply beyond a smile and another small kiss.  He had thought before that he’d been tricked into this… and he definitely had.  But he also had briefly considered it a mistake that he went along with all of this, and there he was wrong.  Pretending to be with Napoleon was a lot easier and maybe even a little more fun than he had thought it would be, and that was definitely valuable information to have.


End file.
